


My Magic Will Serve That Which is Best in Me

by VenomQuill



Series: Dragon Age II [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Ahhh nothing's happening yet, F/M, It's the magic of healing, Post Deep Roads, What is it with blonde pony-tails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24705988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: Hawke came back from the Deep Roads... minus one. Another failure of hers, Hawke seeks an escape. Practicing magic has always made her feel closer to Father and Bethany. What better way to spend her time than learning how to use her magic to help others?But of course Hawke will sniff out trouble, even if it's a hibernating problem in the form of a friend and mentor. Or would it be two friends?
Relationships: Anders/Female Hawke
Series: Dragon Age II [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794661
Kudos: 2





	My Magic Will Serve That Which is Best in Me

**Author's Note:**

> Find it on dA: http://fav.me/ddzbpqd

Hawke ducked out of Gamlen’s house. Leandra had been so excited… so proud to announce all the things she accomplished in getting their house back. Then Hawke came home. Without Carver. So now, it was better if Hawke just… left for a little while. If she got some fresh air. Gamlen somehow showed what might have been translated as sympathy for her–if not about her brother but being the cause of it all. Or perhaps being seen as the cause of it. Sometimes people liked to downplay her role in such things, to make her feel better, perhaps. But she knew what she was doing when she brought Carver with her on that expedition. She knew it was dangerous, Anders had told her that, and Gray Wardens loved venturing into the Deep Roads.

How fitting was it the twins died from the same source? Carver just had the luck to live a little longer. Hawke just had the opportunity to say goodbye. If only she didn’t need to do it. If only she could have helped him. Her philosophy on magic had always been that it should be used to help. So why couldn’t it have helped Carver?

She stopped upon hearing a familiar voice and looked up. She jolted and looked around. Why was she in Darktown? It was getting late, and Darktown was no place to be at night–alone, at least. She glanced to her left, finding the shut door to the cellar’s manor. So, she had an escape route–either from either Hightown or Darktown.

Before her, one door open and the red lanterns lit, was Anders’ clinic. There were still people inside, though the noise was rather quiet so it might not have been many. Hawke looked down at her hand. It was clean; she’d long since washed off the blood. Maybe… well, Anders was an extraordinary healer. But he was one person. A person that shouldn’t be bothered if he was working. Maker, if there was a cure for the Blight that she didn’t know about and Carver had to die for nothing she would never forgive herself. Technically, she would never forgive herself, anyway.

Hawke stepped back as she saw two people leaving the clinic. They both had their attention on the girl in their arms. She was still and quiet, but her chest still rose and fell in proper breaths.

The woman looked up at her. “Oh! Are you here to talk to the healer?”

Hawke shrugged. “No, it’s just a nice night to, uh, see the sights. How’s the kid?”

The woman sighed and set a hand on her heart. “She’s going to be just fine.”

“That man is a miracle worker!” the father whispered. “I don’t know how he did it, but she’s alive. I haven’t seen her so peaceful in so long.”

The two said a quick goodbye and walked away.

Hawke took a deep breath. Well, she wasn’t doing anyone any favors creeping outside his door like a less-guardian type, more nervous Aveline. Besides, someone might mistake her for a templar spy, and she’d get jumped by Fereldans–a more ironic jumping she could not imagine.

She squared her shoulders, put on a smile, and strolled inside. The place was emptier than she first imagined, with only a couple people outside of Anders filling the space. “…start coughing again, give her this. It should stop soon.”

The ratty man before him gladly took whatever Anders offered with a gratuitous “thank you” before leaving.

Anders looked up at Hawke’s approach, even before she made herself known. How did he do that? Could he sense her? The first time they met, Anders hadn’t even been _facing_ them when he announced their presence and accused them of threatening his clinic. “Oh, hello, Hawke! I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Hawke shrugged. “Well, you know me. Always showing up at just the right time! Or wrong time. I never can decide.”

Wait, what’s wrong?” asked Anders.

“Oh, nothing. Just thought I’d see the sights. Darktown is… charming.” She chuckled with a shrug.

Anders raised an eyebrow. “Seeing the sights? Here?”

“Yeah! Have you _seen_ these fuzzy little critters? And the lack of lyrium crazed dwarves or magical rock wraiths.” Hawke cursed herself inwardly. What a stupid thing to say, he looked to have been in an okay mood.

Anders small, amused smile fell. “Oh. I heard the news. I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Don’t be.” Hawke shook her head. “He’s, you know, up there or something. So, you’re a really good healer? Right?” She grinned with the anticipation of a changed subject.

The rebel mage hesitated, but nodded. “I have to be. I always had a talent for it. You know, that might be why the First Enchanter put me through my Harrowing. Spineless bastard.”

She couldn’t help but snort in suppressed laughter. Of course he could find a why to _sound_ grateful but spurn the same person in the same breath. Though, knowing his connection with the Circle, and knowing the First Enchanter led the Circle, she could have guessed it. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear.” She held up her hands upon seeing Anders’ mixed look of confusion and irritation.

“Why do you want to know, anyway?” he asked.

She shrugged again and let her hands fall to her sides. “When I was younger, our father taught Bethany and I magic. Bethany was a sharp learner and was pretty good with the elements. I thought that, you know, healing was a pursuit. That’s the point of magic, right? To help people? I, uh… just wondered… if you needed any help. You look really tired.”

He considered her for a moment. “Really? You would want to stay here?”

“I-I mean it’s not like I have packing to do. We’ve pretty much always had our stuff packed. You know, in case a dragon sat on Gamlen’s house or something.”

“Well… I could use the help,” he admitted. “How much do you know?”

“Not nearly as much as you, I know that,” she answered. “I know some magic and I know what sort of plants go into potions and salves!”

Being late in the day, not too many came into the clinic. They were probably preparing to sleep or making dinner or gathering up their children. “I saw you use some healing when we traveled,” Anders admitted. “But healing in battle is different than healing after. In battle, you worry about your surroundings and only do enough good to stop bleeding and keep people on their feet. They respond better to healing in the heat of battle. _After_ the fight, you concentrate the most on them. The body is lazier when they don’t think they’re going to die.”

“Wait, do you mean I actually have to concentrate on what I’m doing?” Hawke prompted and then rolled her eyes. “Sorry, that was awful.”

Of course, as there were no injured people, he couldn’t demonstrate what he talked about. So, for the most part, they stood. Eventually, Anders sat on his cot with Hawke near him sitting on a crate.

Anders interrupted their lesson as he looked at the doors to his clinic. Hawke followed his gaze. Dim red light from his dying lanterns filtered in through the doorway. Although firelight mostly lit their now empty space, no sunlight aided them. “Oh. It got dark fast.”

“When did that happen?” Hawke agreed. “Who let the sun set this early?”

Anders chuckled. “I do believe it’s almost summer. The sun must have set hours ago.”

“Damn,” she sighed and got up. “Uh, sorry about that. Time got out of hand again. Mother’s probably losing her mind right now.” She chuckled at her half-hearted attempt at a joke. Anyone who knew her mother, however, knew it was no joke. “Good night, Anders.”

Anders stood up, too. “Good night, Hawke!”

Hawke gave him one last wave before slipping out into the night. She kept her steps quiet, a trick she learned whilst under Athenril’s service. Still, Hawke didn’t push her luck and instead cut through the quickest way back to Lowtown. Although she heard rumblings of what might have been bandits, she was quick to escape into the night. Fresh, salty air blew into her face and ruffled her short raven hair.

With hardly a delay, she walked quickly through the streets and climbed the stairs to Gamlen’s house.

“There you are!” Leandra exclaimed. “Where have you been?”

“I’m okay, promise!” Hawke held her hands up. “I was with a friend. So, how’s the move going?”

Leandra stood up straight with a small smile. “I’ve been able to get through to the viscount and, with our new fortune, we should get the deed within a week.”

Gamlen’s voice called from the other room. “Why the blazes are you still awake? Some people are trying to sleep.”

Hawke wrinkled her nose at the door to his room. Ser Barver helpfully barked, eliciting another angry grumble from Gamlen.

“Oh, Gamlen,” Leandra sighed. “You should be getting some rest, my child.”

“Goodnight, Mother.”

“Goodnight, Marian.”

Hawke woke exceptionally late. As she pushed herself out of bed, she could already hear Gamlen and Leandra talking. She pulled on her day clothes, ran her fingers through her hair, and grabbed her staff.

“Good morning!” she announced. “Guess I woke up late again.”

“At least someone got some sleep,” Gamlen mumbled and ate a cut of cheese.

Leandra sent a warning look at her brother. Though, the look diminished quickly. _Maker spare her._ “Do you have your things packed?”

Hawke plopped down beside her mother, who offered a breakfast of eggs and cheese. “Heh. I’ve been ready to go since I thought Gamlen would kick us out. What?” She turned her innocent gaze at her grumpy uncle.

“Damn girl. You’re getting your fancy estate in Hightown.”

_Here we go._

Hawke managed to both tune him out and watch him as they ate. He and Leandra talked the most over breakfast. With a pang, she recalled Carver would like to chip in with his two coppers. Or when Bethany would quietly sit between Hawke and Carver, initiating in conversation when it turned to a route in which she was familiar. Or farther before that when Malcom would make an event out of breakfast. There were no frowns at the table. Meals were sacred, after all.

Hawke left her chair. “So, I have to go out again. Want me to pick up milk?”

“Oh, please do grab some bread and vegetables on your way back,” Leandra requested. “Please be back before midnight.”

“Hey, you know how the market is. It might _be_ midnight if I left now,” Hawke joked and strolled to the door. “Bread and vegetables. Got it!”

The road from Gamlen’s house to Anders’ clinic wasn’t long. It was shorter as she knew the lay out of the twisted, broken place clustered with tents, boxes, and rats. The lanterns above the doors cast a scarlet glow over the walls and ground lit by the sunlight that seeped through one of the giant gaping holes in the side of the tunnel.

The healer chatted with one of his patients when Hawke returned. He perked up a little upon seeing her but kept up the conversation with the other man. The man watched her approach and said a nervous, or perhaps embarrassed, farewell before walking off.

Hawke gave him a small wave. “Morning, Anders! I see it’s a little busier. I’m not too new to help, am I?”

“I won’t turn away help from a pretty woman if I she asks,” he admitted.

She chuckled and smirked. “You’re not so bad yourself, teacher.”

Hawke barely made it back to Lowtown in time to grab what she needed from the marketplace and go home. Of course, as her fortunes had turned, she picked up a few extra things as well.

Hawke, basket full of bread, vegetables, and random ingredients in arm, gave one knock to the door before walking inside. “Mother! I got what you asked for!”

Leandra, standing near the corner reading something, turned around. “Thank you, darling.”

“What’s that?” Hawke set the basket down on the table as she approached.

Leandra’s gaze softened and she looked down at the paper in her grasp. “I found this letter. Oh, Carver. He never told me he had a girlfriend. Peaches was a nice girl.”

Hawke chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Carver thought he was being sneaky, but Beth and I knew exactly what he was doing ‘helping Old Barlin at the farm.’”

Leandra chuckled, tears welling up in her shadowed eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hey, it’s not my business who he gets around to flirting with. He was so _cute_ flustered! But I knew he’d kill me if I said anything.” Hawke laughed. She ran her fingers through her hair but, as her palm touched her face, she felt dampness. Her laughter faded and she rubbed her face. Was she… crying? She gulped and took a deep breath, her wide smile never leaving her. “Well, they weren’t really serious, anyway.”

Leandra nodded, not once looking away from the letter. Liquid splotched it in a few places. She started to speak, but all that came out was a croak and she put a hand over her mouth. Hawke let out a small sigh and pulled her in for a hug. “He was so young,” Leandra managed to squeak out.

“Yeah,” Hawke mumbled.

“Maker, they were too young. Nineteen years of… of loving and raising and–all gone.”

Her daughter didn’t reply to this. She knew Leandra was on the verge of snapping again, and Hawke was a little too tired for it at the moment. So, instead, she held her mother tight, breathing in her sweet, flowery scent and feeling her unsteady heartbeat and hitched breathing close to Hawke’s own. Maker what she would give to be a child again, hugging her weeping mother tight when the woman was convinced their father had been taken by templars. It was not true; the man came back within days ruffled but alive and relieved to see them. But Carver wasn’t going to come home, ruffled but happy to see them and perhaps annoyed he was left behind. Hawke made sure of that, forcing her blade through his chest like Aveline had to Ser Wesley. Why didn’t she listen to Leandra and leave him at home?

Eventually, a long eventually, Leandra tired herself out. Hawke gently let go of her and led her to bed. “Good night, Mother.”

Leandra lay down.

Hawke quietly left the room and shut the door. There wasn’t much of a place to put food, but she still found a crate to put it in free of flies and spiders. She started to go to bed, but instead leaned on the doorway leading to the outside. She stared at the fireplace Carver tended to gravitate towards. He liked fire, watching the spitting, crackling flames consume tinder and reach far up. But these flames were gone, replaced by ashen wood peppered by still glowing coals. _“Don’t go quietly into that good night.”_

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to concentrate the next day without sleep tonight, she pushed herself away from the door and trudged into their–her room. The bunkbed pushed up against one wall stood empty and cold. Despite the blanket on the bottom bunk being unused–or, rather, the entire bottom bunk being unused–she couldn’t bear to mess with it and instead climbed up, careful not to go too quickly up the creation despite the supports being recently reinforced.

Even as she lay down, her mind buzzed like a crazed insect. Her smile faded into nothingness. She put a hand to her mouth and shut her watering eyes.

Hawke found herself looking forward to every morning and hesitant to greet the evening. Anders was such a patient teacher. But on top of that…

“You know…” Hawke started, watching as a young boy who’d gotten injured by an overturned cart walk away, “–I wanted to thank you. You’ve been a great friend. It means a lot.”

Anders smiled a little at that. Maker, what a beautiful sight. “You, too. You know, you remind me of a friend I once had. Though, I’m glad you never had the chance to meet.”

Hawke shrugged. “Damn, another friendship opportunity gone. Oh well. Guess I’ll have to settle with you, huh?”

Just like that, the sad, almost hard look he’d taken on shifted a little more. The Circle had always been a sore subject. After Karl, he spoke even less of those he had known in the Circle. She had never felt so lucky to have had a father clever enough to evade templars and teach them magic at the same time as she did after meeting him.

Hawk went on with a slight chuckle, “Actually, wouldn’t it have been great if our parents got to meet? We might have been able to train together!”

Anders scoffed. “My father was the one who called the templars on me. I hardly think he would tolerate a family of mages.”

 _Dammit, Hawke! Stupid!_ “Eh… well–” her floundering attempt at a subject change was cut off as a woman and her elderly father hobbled into the clinic. Although the man didn’t seem to be holding anything gingerly and no blood stained his clothes, he coughed and wheezed.

“Lay him down here,” Anders ordered, taking the old man from the tired woman.

The woman claimed. “He’s been coughing all week. A-an’ he hardly woke up this mornin’!” She rattled on the old man had been experiencing, though Hawke had a suspicion her report turned into a nervous ramble.

“Hawke,” Anders said the second she stopped speaking. “Go find the Life Ward and Elfroot.”

She rushed to the end of the room and sifted through the crate of brewed potions and salves. Two bottles, one holding a blue liquid and the other a red, were in her hands and she ran back to him.

The healer didn’t immediately take the potions. Rather, he looked over the man and asked him some basic questions. The old man could hardly wheeze out his replies. Anders turned to Hawke and, one hand on the old man’s back, gestured to the blue bottle, which she handed to him. “Drink this.”

The man immediately did as he was told. He took a few deep breaths, having taken it all in one swig. He coughed again, though Hawke suspected it was more out of inhaling some of the liquid then the illness.

“Now, it doesn’t work instantly,” Anders warned. “He will need to stay here for another hour before anything changes. In the mean time, make sure he drinks a good amount of water.”

“Thank you,” the woman breathed and sat beside her father. “Thank you so much.”

As the two waited, they found their next patient, uncomfortable and embarrassed more than anything. Although more reluctant to talk with the new woman he’d never met there, he did confide in the problem he ran into at the docks.

“Dear,” Leandra started after they woke. “–I finally got the deed to our house. We can move in, now!” She sighed, a smile on her face. “After so long. We’re finally getting the house back.”

“That’s great to hear!” Hawke chipped in, her voice light in cheerful excitement. “I guess you’re asking for my help moving everything.”

“Of course.”

She sighed melodramatically. “Oh, Mother. How much I work.” She finished off her breakfast and stood up. “I’ll go make sure everything’s packed!”

The room she walked into was as bare as ever. She got up onto the top bunk and made her bed, a scene that would have surely shocked Bethany and Carver into thinking someone had kidnapped their older sister and taken her place. Thankfully, Hawke had gotten nervous before leaving for the Deep Roads and packed everything while no one was looking. Carver didn’t tell Leandra, probably because he helped with his own things. A silent accord had risen between them. They hadn’t been so certain Gamlen’s generosity would last forever. With Leandra not working and her children out of indentured servitude, he might one day tell them that he couldn’t handle them all on his own. It would be true, save for the fact Hawke would never allow that to happen. She would’ve paid rent if need be. Though, if the Deep Roads had been more dangerous, had claimed her life instead…

Hawke picked up a chest full of old Lothering belongings that had survived the year and strode into the living area. Leandra was not yet ready with her own things, so Hawke walked back into her own former room and searched for anything she may have missed. Nope, everything was packed up and ready to leave. Still, she didn’t leave until she heard a pair of footsteps entering the living room.

It was time for them to go.

Gamlen, grumbling about how Leandra always needed something, helped her carry what they were going to need to Hightown. It wasn’t much, but the house was likely to be bare and in need of supplies. Ah, yes. A day of refurnishing an _estate._ How fun!

…yeah, no, how not fun. The estate was surprisingly well furnished, but Leandra had to expand her and Hawke’s wardrobe further than a few cheap outfits and Hawke’s robes. Gamlen, exasperated with his excited sister but for once unwilling to voice it aloud, walked with her. It probably helped Hawke slipped a few sovereigns into his hand while she wasn’t looking. Helping while her _favorite uncle_ could be doing something like gambling or visiting the Rose deserved compensation, after all.

The sun started to dip by the time they brought everything to the estate and started tidying up. Gamlen had the opportunity to go home, which he took. With a twinge of jealousy, Hawke almost wished she could scurry off rather than hang up clothes and settle into her room. Ah, well. She shouldn’t complain; an opportunity of a lifetime smacked her in the face. She was grateful to have been able to rise to her current position. Yet… if she had to sacrifice every sovereign she’d made to get her brother back, she wouldn’t hesitate.

She looked out the window in the hall after putting away the last of her clothes. Darkness fell, throwing long shadows over the moonlit streets. “Goodnight, Mother!” Hawke called, finding Leandra’s door to be open.

Her mother walked out into the hall, standing straight and proper in a beautiful night gown. “Good night, dear.” She sighed. “If only Bethany and Carver were here.”

Hawke made breakfast the next morning, way more than it would have been just for her and Leandra. “It’s for my friend,” Hawke explained. “He looked hungry last we met.”

Leandra smiled at this. “That’s so nice of you, dear.”

Now that Hawke could leave her house and appear directly in front of Anders’ clinic, she had no problem sneaking food past hungry refugees. Weirdly, when she climbed down from the ladder leading to her cellar and locked the trapdoor, the lanterns above his closed doors weren’t lit. She hid her covered meal behind her back. Her questions had their answers when she saw the door open. Anders opened the door to his clinic and stopped. “Oh! Hello, Hawke. I didn’t expect to see you here so soon.”

Hawke shrugged. “I found a way to teleport. You know, you look like you could use a meal. When was the last time you ate?”

Anders lit one of the lanterns and hung it up again. “There are plenty of people that need a meal. Why do you ask?”

“You avoided my question,” Hawke pointed out, a little less cheery this time. “You don’t charge anyone for your service. Where are you ge–well, I guess that means I have an offer you can’t refuse.”

The healer set up the second lantern so he could face Hawke. “Oh?”

Hawke brought the covered plate in front of her. “Breakfast, my dear healer. I made too much, so Mother thought it was a good idea to give it to ‘that friend I keep visiting.’ Guess I forgot I’m not making anything for Gamlen anymore. So? Want to sit down eat?”

“Maker, yes. Thank you.” Anders sighed with a smile that made her heart melt. Maker, she loved that expression on him. He wore it well. They went back into his clinic to eat and chat. Rather, for him to eat as Hawke already had breakfast. He wolfed down his food as if he’d never eaten before in his life. She made a mental note to bring more next time.

“You _are_ starving yourself!”

Anders puffed with a nonchalant shrug. “Noooo, no. I’m fine.”

_Was this life?_ Hawke had trouble sleeping through the night for many reasons. First, it was her father. Then it was Bethany… Carver… worry over her mother. Now she lay awake, watching as the moonlight crept over the floor in the balcony outside her bedroom. Her mind buzzed with the events taking place, though more specifically it was the _person_ that had taken residence in her life. _Anders_. What a name that was. She’d never thought on it before. Though, Hawke couldn’t be much better. Whoever created their family name didn’t have much of an imagination. Still, she’d spent many days in that clinic, learning and helping. She could heal and she could pick between potions and salves and which ones were best in which situation. She still couldn’t trust herself to brew a potion, not even when she went home to practice. Ah, well, that’s why she had Lady Elegant.

She should be getting some sleep. Yes, sleep is what she needed. She needed the rest. She needed to stop thinking about him. He made it clear he was scared of any such relationship. Of course, she always did love to tease. He seemed to feel the same way at times. So hurt… he had only been doing what he thought was right and he got burned because of it.

Humph. Doing what was right. She knew how _that_ felt. To do something with the best of intentions but get smacked in the face with it. Of course, her problems didn’t match with his. Being possessed wasn’t on the same level as being a let-down to one’s family.

That was crazy talk. They were great friends. That’s how great friends felt, right? Right? She wasn’t going crazy. That weird feeling that dragged her gaze back to her friend when they were together was a normal thing. Best friends were best friends for a reason–they had a lot in common and hung out together and stayed together quite a bit. Yeah, right. That was it. Hawke just didn’t think about it too hard. That was definitely it. Mhm. Not like she thought about the clarity of those light brown eyes she could practically see himself in or the blonde hair that was always tied back or…

…Hawke should be going to sleep.

Sleep. That’s what she should be doing.

Brain, shut up.

Heart, shut up.

No, her heart wasn’t talking. That was her brain being mean to her again. Brain, shut up.

…

She wasn’t going to sleep any time soon.

Dammit.

The years had been oddly kind. Nothing happened, no craziness, no death or destruction. She had time to focus. She had time to go out with her mother. There wasn’t anything foul happening that could be blamed on Hawke.

Of course, the years also helped prod her into thinking about him more often. In fact, it wasn’t so much as a _big secret_ to her friends, though no one openly talked to her about it. Perhaps it was just a rumor or something Isabella liked to tease her about on occasion. She had plenty of time to tease her when Isabella found a “lead” to her relic and asked Hawke to come along. Of course, Hawke couldn’t turn her down and would always go with her, even if it ended up in finding trash or getting attacked by spiders.

In fact, Leandra had once asked her where, exactly, she had been running off to all the time.

“A friend; he’s teaching me how to heal,” she’d said. Leandra gave her the warmest smile. Ever since Malcolm had passed, she and Bethany had been on their own. Well, not anymore. Bethany was no longer around to be taught, after all.

However, life had a way of changing. Like the tides, life predictably switched on her.

“Letter for you,” Bodahn announced as Hawke entered, weary from a morning and afternoon of helping her mother get food and supplies, some of which would go straight to Gamlen.

“Thanks,” she said, walking straight to the desk below the balcony. Firelight from the hearth sent warmth and light over the room, as did the sunlight from the windows not covered by curtains _._

What she didn’t expect from the letter sitting on top was the Viscount’s seal. Curious, she opened the letter and pulled out it’s contents–a piece of paper with a neatly written note.

_“Marian Hawke,_

_“Viscount Dumar requires your immediate assistance. Please meet him in his office at your earliest convenience._

_“--Seneschal Bran”_

**Author's Note:**

> What _is_ with the pony-tail I mean honestly.
> 
> *coughs* Anyway, in every game I've ever played, if I could be the healer, you bet your pants I'll be the healer. My beautiful Sarcastic!Hawke decided to become a spirit healer. She may or may not have been inspired to delve further into her love of healing rather than stick with being an Elementalist/Force like her father and sister. I wonder how an apostate spirit healer would come about? Surely, Malcolm would warn her away from demons and teach her about spirits, sure. But its always been hard to tell, no? That and spirits rarely take interest in mortals. So I envisioned her to be a little like Wynne; Hawke was always fascinated by creation magic and a spirit thought that was noble and took interest. Technically Justice did the same thing; took interest in mortals and eventually merged with one who felt he needed to bring justice to an oppressed group, too. I don't think any of that is how it happens normally, but make of it what you will.
> 
> Oh, and if anyone remembers/gets that second-to-last part where she does ~~attempt to~~ sleep, have a cookie! Though I don't know if my fellow Dragon Age fans are as enthused about Gravity Falls as I am.


End file.
